Ace of hearts
by Fallen-the-Fox
Summary: Joker and Snake are a couple. They are attempting to hide this fact from the rest of the circus...as well as the misterious Father.


Joker! Get up!" a young voice shouted, cutting into Joker's dreams. The orange-haired woke with a small groan, his violet eyes fluttering open. "Wot do ye want, Dagger?" he called back, voice tinged with a thick burr that prevented certain letters from coming out properly. Dagger, a scraggly young boy of seventeen, stood outside the elder man's tent. "Yer late!" Dagger shouted. Jokers mentally swore the reminder and request to raise from his bed a cruel jest to his stiff muscles. Joker was the ringmaster at the Noah's Arc Circus, and being late wasn't setting the best example for the rest of the troupe. "Alrigh, I'm commin gimme a sec," he muttered in his rush to get dressed. He looked down at his right arm with distain; the ringmaster had lost the limb back when he was only a child, perhaps born without it he didn't know, and now it was replaced with a prosthetic fashioned in the form of a skeleton arm. It worked of course, but was always jamming due to its complexity. Joker experimentally flexed the skeletal digits, smiling in satisfaction when they bent. Good, one less thing he had to worry about that day. He pulled his nightshirt over his head with the slight jingle of the four hoop earrings that adorned each lobe. He dressed in a long-sleeved white dress shirt, cropped black pants with diamond patterns on the seams,, boots that curled slightly at the toe and a black-and-white checkered vest. To top it all off, he tied a large gold ribbon around his neck in a bow. Joker then went to the mirror and pinned up his bright orange hair, making it into a sort of sunburst around the back of his head. Two long bits, bleached white, where braided and arranged over his shoulder. He then applied the small amount of stage makeup he always wore, a black wing over the right eye and the same done to the left, along with the addition of a dark blue teardrop design that began at his brow and ended level with his nose. With one last examination of himself, Joker turned, grabbed his violet and gold trimmed cape as well as magician's cane, and left the tent in a rush. He slung the cape over his shoulders without bothering to put his arms through the sleeves. "There ye are, boss!" Dagger stated with a huff, crossing his arms childishly over his chest. He had puffy blonde hair with a black streak died in it under a small feathered hat. Dagger was the circus's knife thrower, and Joker couldn't deny the kid had a gift. He never missed his target. "Yeah, sorry, I o'er slept," Joker explained with a huge yawn. Dagger rolled his eyes, a cheerful grin spreading over his face. "No ye didn', tis only dawn!" Joker's face darkened. "…why ye!" Joker began to chase the knife thrower, whom was laughing manically in glee of his prank. "Dagger yer gonna get it!" Joker declared, although even he now was grinning. "Ye've gotta catch me first!" After a few more moments, Joker had to slow, leaning on one of the many crates lying around to catch his breath. "Tis mean, little brother," Joker said between gasps of air. "Wot's the matter, ol' timer?" Dagger teased with a small smirk, the ever-present dots under his eyes crinkling into half-moons. "Aw, shuddup," Joker growled, feigning anger. Dagger didn't buy it, punching the older man in the shoulder. "Get o'er it, yer usually up by now anyhow," chirped the small blonde. "Well, mayhaps I twas tired," Joker suggested, sitting down on the crate. Dagger shrugged and skipped off happily. Joker couldn't help but chuckle; the entire circus where like family to him, brothers and sisters. Himself and the rest of the first string all grew up together, rotting in the gutter of London. Joker's lip curled in resentment of what they had all been put through. Each had been abandoned by their families or driven away, taking refuge in a dark and dirty alley in the back streets of England. The fear of death and starvation had always hovered over them like a black vulture. They had done their best to help each other, keep each other safe, but the attempts had been pitiful at best. Joker was snapped from his bitter thoughts by the feeling of cold metallic scales around his wrist. He looked down to see a brightly colored serpent coiled around his arm. "Ah, 'ello there, "Joker smiled, then looked off to the side. Where there were serpents in this circus, Snake wasn't far behind. His smile broadened at the tell-tale hissing sound, several voices conversing in serpant-tounge. There was a glimce of corn silk white hair before the rest of Snake came into view, a tall, lithe male in similar height to Joker despite his being a good three years younger. "ello, Snake," Joker greeted with a smile. Snake jumped and gave him a small nod of the head, his serpents whispering into his ears. "good morning, Joker…says Emily," Snake murmured in a soft and shy voice, gold-green eyes flitting between Emily, the dark green snake he had translated for who was coiled around his neck, and the ground. "What are you doing up so early?...asks Wilde," Snake whispered,, motioning to the snake coiled around Joker's wrist. The ringmaster laughed a little. "ah, Dagger woke me," he explained with a shrug, letting Wilde off his arm and onto the ground. Snake bent to collect his scaled friend and gave Joker a small nod, walking off as quietly as he had come. Joker sighed to himself, taking a moment to stretch.

_author's note:_

hi there! I'm Fallen, its nice to meet you. This is my first chapter of an on-going fanfic, so expect more. I'm currently typing chapter two! please comment!


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